Chocolate Milk
by Strigoi17
Summary: He was used to the pain, or at the very least he thought you could have grown used to it – as the Monster of Ikebukuro, he figured he would have to; but the pain Izaya spit onto him was somehow different, worse in so many inexplicable ways.


They'd been at it for hours now.

Barreling through the city like the sun wouldn't rise the next morning. He was only beginning to grow groggy, his legs gradually growing flimsy like noodles left to steam – a the adrenaline dribbled out of his veins in sluggish spurts, as every sign-turned-spear flew from rage-clumsy hands.

"IIIIIIIZAAAAAYAAAAAAAAA-KUUUUUUUUUUUUUN—"

He bellowed through a night dead but for the two flitting figures chasing each other through Ikebukuro. If he couldn't smell the flea in the smog, he would've been guilty: screaming at four am in a well-known and heavily-populated school district would surely cause nothing but more trouble for the Bartender, and he knew it—

Which was why Shizuo assumed Izaya brought him there, in the only coherent part of a mind stained with anger like wine on white linen. Shizuo gripped a reflective yellow sign that signaled Children Crossing and slung it toward the darting black speck in the corner of blue-obscured vision. It crumpled to the ground in a gnarled pile, with the squeal of twisting metal razoring the night in two.

"FLEEEEEEEEEEEA!"

"Oh, Shizzy-chan!"

The fuming blonde spun on his heal, toward the effeminate giggle ripping toward him; eyes slightly blinded by sunglasses scoped out what he hoped would be his query, but he found nothing but the bleary shadows slicked across the school yard.

"You'll have to do better than _that~_"

Shizuo took it that Izaya wasn't strong: no one that fast could be, God-complex or not; but when he realized the ravenette pest was mutely hovering behind him, Shizuo threw his arms back and swung with as much force as he could muster—

The knife was already half-burried in his back by the time Izaya bowed to avoid his punches.

"If you move," Izaya spoke than Shizuo thought it possible for his mind to process. "I could accidently _slip _and hit your monstrous spine."

Shizuo held back a flinch at the feel of Izaya's lips fluttering against his earlobe like hummingbird wings. "And all you'd be able to do for the rest of your life, human, is watch me walk past your hospital window."

He stayed utterly still, more still than he thought he'd ever be able to become. He made it a subconscious effort not to breathe, not to blink, but that, by practice, made him tremble more. It seemed like time had stopped: Izaya didn't move as Shizuo's shaking slowly surely made a crater in his back.

He counted his breaths once he felt he would faint otherwise; each small and trapped in the back of a throat raw from incessant and frustrated screaming.

"Well?" Another minute, airy chuckle, as the knife jiggled almost playfully in his back ans sent white-hot pain dancing up his spin to gather in his neck. "What will you do, Shizzy? What's your decision?"

The blonde refused to move but for his shivering. For a moment, he was four years old again: small, quivering and scared – so scared. He _couldn't _move, he _couldn't!:_ he was physically unable to do something, a feeling he had never had the grace to experience in his very inhuman life. The handicap felt like sugary red-hot cinders peppering his skin, and for the first time in years – Shizuo felt like something other than a monster.

And it was Izaya who had made him feel so mortal.

Izaya, in that moment, had stopped the world from turning.

A hand snaked around a torso thickly and firmly muscled, the other securing the knife in Shizuo's back. A small kiss planted on his neck like a tracking device, and a banded index finger met with a spidery thumb and unclasped the blonde's pants button; as the custom onyx slacks fell to his knees, the button Izaya had let go of glistened in grungy moonlight like his fingernails.

Teeth nipped roughly at his earlobe and faux fur itched at his neck, as a voice like melting butter slipped into his ear.

"What would you like me to do to you?"

"Get the hell off."

"How cute."

Shizuo didn't see but felt the knife dig deeper in his back, nor could he see properly the slender, banded index finger slip into the storm grey underwear his brother had bought him. The growl of a wounded and frightened stray swelled in the depths of his throat, as a fingernail dug into the base of his – until now, unscathed – member.

"I said get off—"

"Shizzy-chan…" Izaya purred, cutting his sentence short as if with the blade lodged in his back as he felt his muscles tense. "How human do you feel?"

Every molecule of his body lit on fire, and – confining his anger in his stomach with every fingerbreadth of restraint brought on by the wound next to his spine, - he managed to stay still.

For a moment, he wanted to risk the scratch and jolt back to face the ravenette.

He'd planned it; of course. It was no surprise at all – not in any scum-tinged, slimey recess of his mind. There was no accident to where and how Izaya had shoved that knife into his back, nor was there an expectance of one—

But, even through denial thick as bone, Shizuo could feel raw and singing disappointment.

"Mmn…"

Izaya's index finger and thumb made a tight circle at the base of his shaft; the impulsive and animalistic purr in his throat, to his dismay, grew like the bulge in his underpants as Izaya scraped his fingers up the length of the taller blonde.

"St… Stop-stop…"

"Sensitive, Shizzy-chan?" Izaya chuckled, trailing his tongue along the inner lining of Shizuo's ear.

He was so focused and scared by Izaya's hand, the feeling of the knife slicking out of his back was hardly a speck between his eyes. As the bloodflow increased, he balled his hands into fists, spinning on his heel—

"Get OFF OF ME-"

Izaya, then, stabbed the now ruby blade just slightly to the right of Shizuo's spine, gouging a second, handle-deep hole into his back. With his anger now just a bubbling in his stomach, he felt himself exclaim in both pain and how completely Izaya had him wrapped right next to the ring on his index finger.

"Oh, Shizu-chan…" He sighed with feigned despondency, slumping slightly. "I thought, for a moment, that you'd try something new and actually follow my plan…" He pushed the knife deeper with slender fingers, Shizuo's split flesh swallowing the black handle and as blood leaked onto Izaya's hand like red wine, he dug his thumb nail harshly into Shizuo's slit.

"Ahh!"

"But that's _exactly _what makes you interesting, isn't it?"

The pain was all he could think about; the pain mixed with sickening pleasure like chocolate dribbling into chilled milk. The ecstasy swirled inside the pain, streaking and tinting all of it – making it almost bearable.

He was used to the pain, or at the very least he thought you could have grown used to it – as the Monster of Ikebukuro, he figured he would have to; but the pain Izaya spit onto him was somehow different, worse in so many inexplicable ways.

Regardless of the way it formed in his mind, he hurt.

"Lay down." Shizuo ignored the ravenette, at least physically: no matter how deep he shoved that pocketknife into him, or how dangerously close it was to his spinal cord – he didn't answer to fleas—

Izaya applied only light pressure, jiggling the blade like it were a key in a lock stuck with rust; he turned his thumbnail into a wider and deeper circle on the slippery opening. He felt the tip of the blade brush a rub lightly as Izaya's lips on his ear, and he felt the muscles in his legs start to twitch.

Shizuo fell to his knees.

"Lay. Down." Izaya repeated, enunciated each sound the letters made, ripping out the blade, and Shizuo balanced himself on his back with a large, pitiful wince – as Izaya kneeled over him, knife pointed between his eyes for good measure. As one hand yanked his underwear swiftly down thighs visually bucking forward to where his hand was, he placed the micro-edged blade directly over Shizuo's parted lips.

He had given up. He was too dizzy and in too much gloriously contrasting pain and pleasure to care anymore. Izaya had won – again.

Knife trailing with his lips, Izaya placed a small and deliberate kiss on the tip of Shizuo's now erect member. With a tongue slicked in saliva, he made a complete circle on the quickly purpling tip, winning a moan from Shizuo's agape mouth.

Izaya shifted slightly – at the look of Shizuo bare, writhing and injured in front of his eyes, mouht twisted with a look of undisguisable ecstasy – he was already uncomfortable in his own apnts.

He decided, wholely, to rush – if Shizuo's back numbed, or if he slipped into shock, Izaya would never get what he'd been meticulously plotting for months now.

Taking a chance too precarious for word or thought, he took all of Shizuo into his mouth and swallowed him down his throat, closing his lips expertly at the very end of him, before bobbing his head gently.

Shizuo was dreaming – no, he was locked in a nightmare like Izaya had wrapped him in chains that scraped against his skin with years of rust.

He closed saffron eyes. It wasn't real, it wouldn't be – as he found himself inable to move otherwise, he scraped his wounded back across packed dirt, and bucked deeper down his enemy's constricting throat. Izaya tickled the underside of his core with the tip of his tongue, digging the blade gently into his faceted stomach. At the sound of another small moan, Izaya chuckled, his throat vibrating around Shizuo. As the blonde moaned and pulsed in his mouth, Izaya gave a hardy suck—

And the virgin let out a low scream into the slowly dawning day. Shizuo couldn't breathe; no, on the contrary, he didn't know what air _was._

Izaya turned his head gently to the side as he bobbed backward – his slippery cheeks and narrow throat tugging and shifting against Shizuo's already dribbling erection.

And then, Izaya promptly spit him out.

"You're close, aren't you?"

Shizuo was incapable of words – close to what? throwing him into the chain-link fence? Eyes yellow as daylight traced Izaya's smudgy, night-blurred silhouette, as the slender male undid his own pats. Shizuo closed his eyes again; it wasn't anything he wanted. He hardly knew how Heterosexual couples did it – what was Izaya going to – ?

One…

The rustling of Izaya's pants being thrown onto the ground fluttered quietly to his ears.

Two…

Hands chilled with night air rested above his navel.

Three…

He felt an inexplicably blissful and slick heat envelope all of him, clouding his mind like the pain had. The blonde head rolled sideways onto the dirt, face red with anger or a blush, giving off a loud moan as Izaya shifting on top of him.

"Iiiiiizaaaaaaaay…"

The ravenette forced a chuckle as he fully snatched away the twenty-three-year-old's virginity, but it was short-lived; he'd underestimated the_ pain_ he was in upon shoving Shizuo inside of him. He leaned forward, stretching himself around the blonde. He took a deep breath, leaned back, and moaned with the man pulsing noticeably inside of him.

As claret eyes fluttered open directly above his own, Shizuo threw everything but the feeling of Izaya's insides and the look of the pest in front of him; leaned forward and collided lips with him.

Izaya stole away Shizuo's breath and turned it into his own. Both pairs of eyes fell closed in ecstasy, as – despite a back screaming in pain like they both were in pleasure – thick hands rose to grip narrow hips, and Shizuo thrusted into the maggot with the force of a vending machine smashed into a building.

Izaya was surprised he didn't split in two.

"Shizuo!" He squealed, shoulders hunching drastically forward as his nails ripped into the abdomen below him. "That huuuurts-!"

"Too – too late…" The older rasped, more aroused than ever at the use of his full name.

Izaya smiled wickedly, before leaning forward and shoving their lips together once more. With his own, he pried open Shizuo's lips and slicked his tongue into the taller's mouth. Timing his jerks with Shizuo's rough and over-powering ones, he bucked around his seme – and upon Shizuo's dick scraping so far and violently into his insides at such a speed and force, he felt himself scream aloud—

He wasn't some bitch. He was riding Shizuo before anyone else could, and he was _loving it._ pulling away from the blonde's lips, Izaya leaned quickly into his shoulder as he felt blood rise to his cheeks and pleasure through the rest of his body. The blonde pounding harder and harder into him with each burst of manic energy, he bit into the flesh deeply.

Shizuo marveled at how tight the boy was against him; how slippery and warm his insides were. It was something about the feel of his teeth, the clawing of his nails at his back and the muffled screams hot against his skin—

He saw nothing but white.

Shizuo spilled messily inside the man, which then triggered the chain reaction of Izaya bursting into Shizuo's face.

"…oh…" The claret-eyed and cheeked man moaned, slumping as Shizuo did. "How did you-?"

"It was nice." He grunted shortly, rolling off of the pest and closing his eyes.


End file.
